


hiding up a tree (what a great way to make friends)

by destinedtobelokid



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, Homophobia, M/M, References to Homophobia, References to bullying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 18:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destinedtobelokid/pseuds/destinedtobelokid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dead? Yes? No? Gavin risked a look down from his (rather dangerous and stupid) position on the branch and ended up staring at the face of none other than Michael Jones. So, yeah. Dead. Definitely dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hiding up a tree (what a great way to make friends)

Gavin went through high school with his head down, huddling in on himself whilst all the boys stared at him and whispered about him like he was some kind of alien from outer space (a gay, faggoty alien that deserved many, many beatings) and all the girls avoided him as though he were covered in female-repellent. It didn't bother him, really, it didn't. Well, okay it did bother him; sure, he wasn't an overly social person and yes, he preferred to have his privacy, but sometimes the loneliness of it all left him aching.

Aching for what? He wasn't all that certain. An actual conversation with a real human that wasn't blood-related? That would be nice. Being able to walk down the corridor without over hearing homophobic comments? Now, there's a thought. An companion who didn't abandon Gavin after a day? Truly too much to ask.

And Gavin didn't ask. He didn't go looking for the friendship and company he waited. He just kept walking with his head down, books held closely to his chest.

Somehow, towards the end of lunch, whilst on his way to the furthest edge of the football field, where he often hid, Gavin wound up being chased (and shouted, cussed, verbally-assaulted at) by several jocks until he tired from running and scrambled up a tree.

Which, honestly, wasn't one of the smartest things Gavin had done, but he wasn't all that well known for doing smart things anyway (quite the opposite actually).

With his lanky, thin and unfortunately clumsy limbs Gavin dragged himself up into the tree, and after a few shaky steps and a couple of 'blimey this sucks', he managed to get high enough that he was safe from the jocks. Their bulk, and their gear would stop them from even getting within arms reach of Gavin.

As Gavin lowered himself down to straddle one of the thicker branches, his leaned forward and splayed his hands on the bark, tilting his head to peer down at the ground. There wasn't anyone there, which was mildly disappointing, but Gavin heard the crunch of leaves under a foot and froze. He lifted his head, looking up at the sky.

Damnit. Damnit. Damnit. He's dead. Maybe.

Dead? Yes? No? Gavin risked a look down from his (rather dangerous and stupid) position on the branch and ended up staring at the face of none other than Michael Jones. So, yeah. Dead. Definitely dead.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Michael asked, with a sigh as he crossed his arms and cocked his brow.

"Picking dandelions for Mum." Gavin replied automatically. The excuse was one he'd had ever since he was five and had been caught in old Mrs Turrow's garden covering one of her- incredibly creepy- gnomes in peanut butter. And just for the record, even Gavin doesn't know why he was smearing peanut butter on gnomes at three o'clock in the morning. It's one of life's unsolved mysteries (one that Gavin has no intention of solving).

"Uh huh, smart-ass." Michael deadpanned, with a pouty twist of his lips. "Why are you really up there?"

"Uh, well, you see, I have a big mouth-" Gavin's cheeks flared as Michael's eyebrow rose and his eyes flickered down to Gavin's lips for the briefest moment- "and I may or may not have pissed off some jocks and I'm pretty sure they want blood. My blood in particular."

Michael snorted and shook his head. "You're ridiculous. And they ran off when you climbed the fucking tree. You gonna come down?"

"Uh, I'd love to, really, but-"

"You're stuck." Michael didn't look too impressed.

"Yeah."

"Need a knight in shining armour?"

"I'd prefer a hand."

"I bet you would." Michael's grin was lewd and filthy. Gavin flushed and shifted uncomfortably. Was Michael flirting or-?

"Not like that, you git!"

"Hey, hey, just teasing." Michael smirked. "No need to get flustered."

Together, with a lot of frustrated sighs and a few yelped shouts of "Gavin, damnit!" the two managed to get Gavin's two feet planted firmly on the ground. Michael held onto Gavin's forearms for a second.

"Michael." He said, letting go of Gavin's arm, smirking at Gavin as the Brit picked the leaves from his mussed hair. "I'm Michael, by the way."

"Oh... I know." Why Michael felt the need to introduce himself Gavin didn't know. Everyone knew bloody Michael Jones. Everyone. Some more so that others and if rumours were true- and Gavin knew they seldom were- quite a few members of the cheerleading squad knew Michael in a biblical sense. Gavin cleared his throat awkwardly, not wanting his mind to wander down a trail that led to images of Michael naked, and Michael naked with Gavin and Michael naked with Gavin in _positions_. And Gavin really needed to divert his mind from that road. Fast. So he focused on stammering out a pathetic, "Uh, I'm Gavin."

"I know." Michael mimicked simply.

"You do?" Now that was truly shocking. Michael- the most popular boy in the whole bloody school- was not only willing to save Gavin from falling from a tree (or getting beat up by bloody jocks), but he knew his friggin' name? Really?

Michael must have heard the shock in Gavin's voice, because he glanced at Gavin, but when his eyes met Gavin's imploring ones his gaze flickered away, and there was a distinct redness to his cheeks.

"Yes, I do." Michael said tersely. "Now, shut up before I hand you over to the jocks myself." Michael grabbed Gavin's shoulder roughly and pulled him into a headlock, roughing up Gavin's hair playfully (if a little rough, although he certainly wasn't complaining).

Michael walked with Gavin to his next class (Chemistry) and fist-bumped his shoulder, grinned and left with a simple, "later, Gav."

To say that Gavin was confused was to put it lightly. He was completely floored. He spent all of Chemistry frowning and thinking over all the possible reasons why Michael would talk to him., but then Ray started yelling that Gavin's sleeve was on fire and 'holy fuck, dude!' and Gavin tried to focus on _Chemistry_ and the bunsen burner he'd been ordered to keep an eye on by his lab partner Dan. All of his thoughts of Michael would have to wait until later, Gavin told him as he and Ray patted down the flames on his sleeve and inspected the damage done to his shirt (luckily, not much, Gavin would have to thank Ray later).  
The next day when Michael plopped himself down onto the seat across from Gavin, he could only stare at the red-head in shock until Michael lobbed a sandwich at Gavin's head and snapped at him to eat. Gavin stared dumbly, mouth opening and closing silently, and his shock turned to pure horror as Ray- one of Michael's closest friends and impromptu fire-fighter- slid in next to Michael and raised an eyebrow at Gavin.

"You'll catch flies soon." He said dryly.

"Trust me, man, they don't taste good." An amused voice sounded to Gavin's left. Geoff grinned down at him and sat, dropping himself onto the seat heavily as Joel tsked and cuffed him over the head for knocking into Gavin. Joel smiled an apology as Geoff grumbled and Gavin stared.

He stared as Jack sat to Gavin's right, and Ryan across from jack, next to Michael.

Gavin stared at all of them, although none of them paid him any attention (save for a quick hello), before dragging his eyes to Michael, who was staring at Gavin, an amused yet slightly nervous smile on his lips. Gavin gestured around him, to the people sitting around him and Michael shrugged.

Gavin frowned, mouth going agape again and Michael smiled, before bowing his head and scribbling on his napkin. He slid it across the table to Gavin, who fumbled to pick it up, all too aware that Michael was watching him closely. He held the paper up and read Michael's message, a smile tugging his lips into a wide grin (and God, he hadn't actually smile like this in months).

_they're my friends, dumbass, and so are you. i like to hang out with my friends. get used to it._

While Gavin was a little flabbergasted at Michael's acknowledgement of their friendship (hadn't Michael only officially spoken to Gavin yesterday?) as Jack nudged his shoulder, and pulled Gavin's into his and Ryan's conversation, Gavin found that he wouldn't really mind getting used to this. Especially if Michael kept giving him those small, almost shy, smiles.

Michael's posse returned to Gavin's lonely table the day after, and every day for the rest of the week... and the month... and the one after that... Gavin didn't know how but somewhere along the lines of getting stuck in a tree and rescued by Michael, he'd found himself with four great friends (genuine friends) and Michael, who shared his lunch with Gavin to 'fatten him up', and teased Gavin relentlessly for the silly things he did and flipped Ray off when the other boy made off-hand comments about _when did you say the wedding was, Michael?_ and _uh, Gavin, would you stop holding Michael's hand under the table for a sec and pass the salt?_

Sure, Gavin may have spent the first two years of high school with his head down, but he spent the rest of his sentence (and possibly the rest of his life) with his rowdy mess of friends and his short-tempered (yet, surprisingly affectionate) boyfriend.

 


End file.
